


We're Gonna Live (At Last)

by ninathena



Series: It’s Only Illusion (A Miracle) [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathena/pseuds/ninathena
Summary: Bellamy has some trouble sleeping, and Echo does what she can to lure him back into bed.





	We're Gonna Live (At Last)

The hall lights are dim as Bellamy makes his rounds, his steps sounding hollow as they reverberate around him. He pokes his head within various abandoned rooms, flashlight scanning dark corners and hidden spaces before continuing on with his inspection, trying his best to ignore the heaviness of his every move. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he body certainly does.

He catches his reflection in the nearby window, a backdrop of stars surrounding it. He doesn’t usually spend a whole lot of time looking at his reflection in the morning, determined to keep himself busy, keep time moving, but as he studies himself now he’s surprised at how unchanged he is. Granted, it’s only been four years, not much time for anything drastic, but somehow he knows the person he is in this moment is far too different than the reflection of the man he sees from years ago.

He thinks of Clarke, thinks of her last words to him. The heart and the head. It’s kept him alive, kept him sane, helped him be the man they’ve all needed him to be. Who he needed himself to be if he was ever going to move beyond the past. But with all these years the one thing he’s learned is that you’re never really beyond it, and all you can do is accept it and live… or don’t.

He steps away, his reflection disappearing from the glass like a mirage. Like he’s not really there at all. His tired sigh resounds around him as he rolls his head, stretching the kinks from his neck.

“I know for a fact you’ve already checked this hall.”

He should be surprised, perhaps flinch at the silky voice reaching down from the obscure depths of the corridor, like some sort of femme fatale in those black and white vids he’d seen as a kid. But instead, he’s trying like hell to tamp down the pull at the corner of his lips, and hide the obvious relief at her presence. He fails spectacularly on both counts, but that doesn’t bother him much. Not anymore. She’s always been able to see through him.

Echo’s shadowy form is illuminated with every few steps past the lights lining the wall, the curve of her playful smirk and clear eyes bright until she reaches him.

He bites his lip to hold back his grin, face becoming warm at having been caught out so late. He shakes his head, unable to meet her eyes while he shrugs. “Just… double checking.”

“Uh huh.” Her face is open and patient, which makes it easier to handle the scrutiny of her gaze when she observes him so quietly like this.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he adds, because that’s a little closer to the truth, even though he’s not even certain what the whole truth is.

The pressure of her hands are light as they run down his arms, stopping just above his elbows as she steps into him. He takes it as an incentive, setting his own hands on her hips, pulling her closer and letting the warmth of her seep within him. He’d forgotten how cold it is in space. Almost like he hadn’t spent all but one year of his life up here. Almost like he always belonged on the ground. It still surprises him sometimes that after everything, he still believes it was worth it. That, that terrible, beautiful planet was worth all the blood it took to survive on it.

“Come back to bed,” she whispers, forehead resting against his, the touch of her skin doing wonders to calm the racing thoughts of his mind. Still, it won’t be enough, and he knows it. Some nights, nothing ever is.

“Can’t.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so feeble, so gruff and laden with emotion. But the hum she releases is sweet and sympathetic, and he swallows his guilt. He wishes she _were_ enough, wishes he could tell her that her mere presence was all it took to banish this monster that comes out when things are too dark – too quiet.

But that’d be lying, and they promised not to do that.

“You can. I won’t fall asleep without you, promise.”

He scoffs, leaning back to catch her adoring eyes, and he sees the worry hidden behind them. His heart clenches at the sight. She wants for nothing except to help him – soothe him. Maybe even to lull him into some sort of restful sleep. And while a part of him would rather her let go and move on, accept that he is the way he is, another, much more selfish part, can’t help but like the feeling of someone putting him above themselves in such a way.

“Well that makes things better,” he says wryly. “If I can’t sleep, why should you?”

She lifts her chin, nodding as if considering his words. “You’re right. I have a big day tomorrow. Very important meeting with Raven about the do’s and don’ts of extravehicular activity.”

A chuckle bubbles up from his chest, squeezing her hips unconsciously. Her grin returns, wider than ever when she sees how she’s made him smile.

“You don’t even go out there.”

“No, I don’t. And I’m not about to, but it’s apparently going to be followed up by a riveting explanation on our command and data subsystem, responsible for the overall management of the ring.” The seriousness of her tone is undermined by her slowly crossing eyes, her tongue dropping from the corner of her mouth once she’s done.

If you had told him on the ground that Echo Kom Azgeda was a lighthearted, humorous person, he would’ve thought you crazy. But here, now, with the span of four peaceful years and their being allowed to just… live. He’s happy. Really, truly happy, and quite a lot of it has to do with this woman and how carefree she can make him feel with her levity. It’s incomparable to any other time in his life.

Her hands travel over the bunched fabric of his shirt he has pushed up around his elbows, sliding firmly yet gently down his forearms, making him breathe deep until she catches his hands. “Don’t want to miss that.”

“No,” he agrees quietly, “sounds like a blast.”

Her lips are tender on him then, leaving slow, reverent kisses along his cheekbone, then the shell of his ear, nuzzling the soft skin behind it. “C’mon,” she breathes, sultry and low, easing some of the tension within him, “I’ll read to you.”

He swallows thickly before releasing a light huff, bumping her nose with his own. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

She tries but fails to hold back her snort, breaking out into a deep laugh as her head drops onto his shoulder. It’s infectious, and he can’t help but return it, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. And he feels it, the steadiness of it enveloping him as he holds her with all the happiness he’s ever felt. The “L” word. It’s almost out of his mouth, pushing behind his lips to escape. But fear seizes within him, chaining him down with his trauma. Now isn’t the right time, he knows it, but time is the one commodity they have plenty of up here.

She bites her lip, worrying the pink flesh with her teeth as she steps away, leaving one hand holding onto his fingers as a bridge between them, gesturing for him to follow with a tilt of her head. He sighs, giving up the fight against what he’s wanted all along, letting her lead him back to their room. He tries not to let the anxiety eat at him before they can make it back. But even if he doesn’t sleep, lying beside her as he listens to her smooth voice and quiet breaths – knowing that he’s not alone – might just be enough to keep the monster at bay for the time being.


End file.
